Doctor's Musings
by Merely Mir
Summary: Learning to be human is such an awkward experience. The Human-Doctor's thoughts after Journey's End.


Doctor's Musings

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Wouldn't dream of owning it. It's property of the BBC and probably some other folks. I don't do this for the money.

Summary: This is something weird that I came up with when I couldn't sleep for a few nights and had Journey's End on the brain.

Warnings: This story has major spoilers for series four, up through the episode "Journey's End." This is your final warning, turn back now if you don't want to know what happens in that episode. Also, this is a very rough draft. This story is in no way edited. I figured I would get it posted before I chickened out. I will probably edit the crap out of it and perhaps go about writing an entire series in the parallel universe. That is, of course, assuming I can keep my creative juices flowing that long. I think that's just about it. And in case it matters - I'm not British.

It has been awkward. So very awkward. Those first few hours, days, months. I was him, but I wasn't. We all knew that. From that moment, standing on the beach of Bad Wolf Bay, I stopped being him. The man she had fallen in love with. It has been hard at first, coping with the cards the universe had dealt us. The ride back to England had been the worst or so I had thought until we got to her one bedroom flat. That had been more so. The entire ride back we had sat glancing at one another, touching but not. Part of me wanted to grab her, hold her, kiss her, make love to her in all the ways he had dreamed of, act on the urges he had only admitted to himself when she was gone from his life. Coward. And there I sat, the man she had fallen in love with, but not. If I had been any less of the Time Lord he was, I might have gone mad with it. As it was, I knew she would need the time to come to grips with… me.

Arriving at her flat had posed something of a problem. If I had been him, I suspect she would have taken me to her bed without the slightest of hesitations. But I wasn't him and we both knew that. I offered to take the couch, spare her the awkwardness of further deliberation, spare myself the agony. Anger and vengeance he'd said. Oh how right he'd been. Could she – would she make me better? I spared a thought to wonder if he had ever slept in her presence? I suppose not. Asleep after her, awake before her. Coward, couldn't be that vulnerable. I would not be that coward. I would love her like she deserved, like he never could. After all, I was him but not. I wouldn't be him in all the ways that mattered. If she let me.

She watched as I settled onto the couch. She looked so very torn, vulnerable like she had on the beach; longing for the words that needed saying no matter what he thought. "I suppose we'll need to get you a proper wardrobe tomorrow. Figure out who you'll be on this Earth." She handed me a half unfolded blanket, unsure of what liberties she should take with me. How frail was I now that I only had one heart? "I'll talk with Torchwood tomorrow." I gritted my teeth for a moment before remembering that Torchwood was a force for good, that she worked there. Her job was to do on her own what they had done together, stop aliens from taking over. In a world without the Doctor- I shuddered at the thought. "I'll be damned if I'm letting you call yourself John Smith, Doctor." Again, I was him but I wasn't. She smiled at me, "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Rose." Only it wasn't. I could hear her padding around her room, changing for bed. Then came the crying, only I couldn't comfort this hurt. She was crying for him and I had to let her bear that pain out. How that had hurt. I tried to think of this life, a life with Rose. A life without the TARDIS. A life where I wasn't the Doctor. Would Rose even be able to accept me? The future looked bleak. And now I couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking. How human I felt now. I thought of anything and everything. Torchwood, memories that were mine but not, her new little brother, Tony – I hadn't even met him yet – Jackie, Pete, even Mickey. But mostly I thought of Rose and living day to day with her. The one adventure I could now have. If only.

"Doctor?" her voice was small, quiet and tentative. "Are you awake?" she warbled, voice a little watery with the tears she had shed for him. I was going to have to get over that jealousy of him and soon. Caustic emotion, jealousy; eating away at your insides. But my emotional well-being would have to wait, Rose needed me and if I was honest with myself, I needed her. I would always need her.

"Yes, Rose?" I sat up and found her in the soft light of the city in the door to her room. She started moving toward me and I shifted around on the couch to make room for her to sit next to me.

"I can't sleep," she stated plaintively. She sat down on the couch next to me, pulling the blanket she had draped around her a little tighter. "I'm exhausted but I can't sleep, I can't-" She took a deep breath and I put my arm around her shoulders. "My head is running around in so many circles, I don't know where to begin!" She hung her head.

"Shh, you never were very good at beginnings. Quite all right." Now that I said the words, I knew them to be true. She wasn't very good at beginnings and it was going to be all right. We were together and that was what matters. There would be bumps along the way but the TARDIS taught me there were always bumps. They made life interesting, worth living.

"I shouldn't have made you sleep on this crummy couch." She nuzzled deeper into my side. Her forehead pressed into my neck. She smelled of honey, vanilla and time. Had she always smelled this good? I wrapped my arm tighter around her, breathing in her scent. "I'm sorry." It was a quiet breathy apology. I could feel her relax against me. Soothing words were on the tip of my tongue. It was alright, I understood, but I never got them out. She was already asleep against me, her hand fisted in my shirt. Smiling ruefully, I slid my free hand under her legs, pulling them up over mine, careful not to wake her. Rearranging the blanket and wrapping my arms around her. It was the best sleep of my life. Perhaps not the most comfortable, but the best I'd had, wrapped in the scent of her.

Author's Note: Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Edited: 2013.02.28 - Four years later and I finally get around to those 3am induced typos.


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